A Treasure
by emma-HAAY
Summary: Evangeline Kinsey is a disgraced bionics engineer turned rouge. Ulysses Klaue is a black market arms dealer who has lost an arm and is looking for revenge. He picks up Eva and she somehow falls further into the world of treachery and crime, even when her work is finished. A/N: Slight AU. Starts in AoU and will mostly take place during/after Black Panther. Klaue won't die here.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! With a short introductory chapter. Huge shout out to everyone who reviewed and messaged me who wanted me to come back.**

 **I made Eva specifically for this fic because I didn't think Eve would be a good fit, but I kept the name similar because, again, I really love Eve. This will be a Ulysses Klaue fic, obviously, because I still catch feelings for characters that I shouldn't catch feelings for, even after all these years. If you have any suggestions for the plot then leave them in my inbox or in a review. Sorry if you're not into Klaue, I don't blame you honestly. But I am and there isn't much for him in the way of fanfic so I thought I would contribute.**

 **That's it for this section I suppose. Thank you, everyone, for your support and I hope you enjoy! 3 3 3**

"You know full well I can't do anything for you if I don't get paid first." Evangeline Kinsey stated impatiently, sick of having the same conversation with her client, one of the several underground bosses that hired her from time to time.

"I know, luv, I know. But you charge so much and-"

"Yes, I do, why do you think that is?" She interrupted, folding her arms across her chest. The man before her floundered for a moment before she answered her own question. "Because I need to buy the materials and any specific tools or parts that I'll need to make what you're asking me. Plus a little extra so that I can afford my shitty apartment until the next job I get."

"Of course, of course, but I don't have all of it now and my best interrogator lost his leg, he needs to be able to stand." Eva sighed impatiently as the man pleaded with her. "I don't trust anyone else to make a functional one for him. I can pay you for materials now, and by the time it's finished I'll have the rest."

"Knuckles," She addressed him with his preferred "nickname" while trying not to crack a smile at the ridiculous moniker, "I like you, you know I do, and I appreciate that you're so loyal to my work, that's why I keep taking your business even though you keep trying to make this same argument. But I really can't take IOU's. For you, I'll reduce my price and give you a little more time to get it all together. If I happen across any materials I can use then I'll get started, but I need to be paid."

He didn't look too happy about her proposition, but Knuckles knew Eva well enough from their past dealings to know that she wouldn't budge if she didn't want to. So he nodded wordlessly. The two debated a little more over the reduced price until they reached an agreement. They shook hands and kissed cheeks, and Eva left Knuckles's warehouse.

Knuckles was a low-level arms dealer who had come to her by recommendation. They had an excellent working relationship because Eva specialized in making bionic prosthetics, and Knuckles had loose requirements when it came to the muscle her hired; as a result, he ended up needing her products more often than any of her other regulars.

Once she got home to her meager apartment, she flipped the old television on to the news channel. She found half of her clients by catching the local news about new gangs and organizations, and if poor old Knuckles and his were running dry then she would have to find at least two more gangs to buy from her to make up for it.

"- _spotted Iron-Man and the Hulk battling it out on the coast of South Africa, nearly decimating the small town_." The anchorwoman on the TV said as she flickered to life on screen. Shoddy phone camera footage was played on the screen while the woman continued to speak about the civilians who had lost their homes in the fight.

Eva's eyes caught something in the background of the video. She paused and moved closer to the screen.

A small gray blur, vaguely human-shaped. It was flying in the background and appeared to be moving upward Her first thought was that it was one of Stark's suits. She hit play and watched the shape closely and realized that based on the faint flight trail left behind, the shape was flying away from the scene.

As she thought about it, she realized that there was no sense in the thought that the suit was an Iron Man mech. If Stark was calling in armor to help him, why would he call just one? Come to think of it, what were the Avengers doing in South Africa?

"Must be something to do with why they were there." She said quietly to herself. The screen changed as the news reports steadily declined in severity, leaving Eva to wonder after what she had seen.

"The mundane news pulled her thoughts away from the Avengers, and instead, she focused on finding something to eat while she listened to the rest of the reports.

Eventually, after sleepily determining that she might have to go into a new line of work or at least move to a more crime-ridden city (neither of which would ever happen), she switched off the television and readied herself for bed. Something in the back of her mind told her that there was something important about what she had seen. Consciously, she didn't particularly care about what the Avengers did, but there was something about that footage that continued to niggle at the corners of her thoughts.

She fell asleep and dreamed about a dancing troupe of robots and Knuckles chasing after her with someone's severed arm.


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Eva ended up in a junkyard a few streets down from her apartment. This particular junkyard was run by an old friend of hers who let her take anything she wanted whenever she needed. She had woken up restless and bored, and with nothing else to do, she made the decision to start on the leg that Knuckles needed.

Knowing her as well as he did, Knuckles had texted her photos of the wound, as well as the measurements she needed to get started. Part of her wanted to be annoyed at him for assuming, but logically she knew that if he hadn't, she would have asked for the information anyway.

After scrambling around for a while, Eva stopped to wipe her brow and decided that she had had enough of dragging herself through the junk and flew like a bat out of hell back to civilization and back to her workshop.

"Workshop" was just a loose word she used to describe her workspace. In reality, it was just a rented garage a block or so away from home. She split the pay for rent with two younger aspiring biomechanics engineers. They were twins, Matt and Octavia (she preferred Tavia), and they had been with her for years.

Previously, Eva had been a biomechanics teacher at Columbia University and the twins were her best - and favorite - students. After she had been a victim of a framing and a scandal broke out around her, she had been forced to resign and was left with no employment options.

She had been survived when Matt and Tavia knocked on her door and told her that they knew she wasn't involved in what she had been accused and pledged themselves loyal to her. She had tried hard to turn them away, not wanting to ruin their prospects for the future but they had proven too stubborn for her. It was their idea to turn to the underworld to make money. Eva had been skeptical at first but had been surprised to find how many people were in need of a replacement hand, or fingers, or legs.

Matt and Tavia were already at work when she arrived and she heard music blaring before she even reached the garage door. The twins didn't even notice when she came inside until she struggled her way to the stereo and turned the volume down.

"You two are going to be deaf before you're twenty-five." She quipped, rubbing her ears. "Also, people live on this street. We don't want our neighbors to hate us."

"Sorry boss," Matt said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"If it makes you feel any better, I bought you a coffee this morning." Tavia supplemented and retrieved an iced coffee from the small fridge in the corner. "What's that?" She asked, gesturing to the bag Eva had on her shoulder.

"I talked to Knuckles yesterday, one of his idiots lost a leg somehow." Eva took the plastic cup, then dropped the bag in Tavia's outstretched hand.

"Seriously?" Matt sighed.

"Did he try to get out of paying again?" Tavia spoke as she began laying out the scraps on her workbench. Eva just laughed in response.

"Of course he did. I told him I'd start something, but I won't actually finish it unless we get paid."

"You're too nice."

"I know. I gave him a discount too."

"Yep." Tavia nodded and muttered something under her breath. Eva didn't bother asking what she said and just skipped straight to, "Watch your mouth."

A ponytail, and apron, and a sketchbook later and Eva had begun designing a new leg based on the information that had been texted to her. She was just getting into her creative flow when Matt started speaking again.

"I have news." He said.

"Good or bad?" Eva asked, reluctantly looking up from her sketchbook. He shrugged and thought for a second.

"Mixed? I heard that a gang war is pretty much inevitable. I forget who's involved, but apparently, some agreement or another took a pretty abrupt nosedive."

"Okay?" Eva leaned forward on her elbows, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to think of ways that could _possibly_ have something to qualify as a bright side.

"Well supposedly it's going to be nasty, and we're the only people on this side of the city that do this kind of thing."

"Which means we're going to be very busy."

"Which means we're going to be able to afford some newer equipment." Tavia proclaimed, looking around their makeshift workshop. "Or a bigger space at least." Eva nodded in agreement.

"Well, it's a good thing we're the best at what we do." She smiled. "Thanks for the heads up, Matt. If it's not just some nasty rumor, then we'll be prepared." Matt nodded and went back to his quiet self, working in silence.

A few minutes later, Eva made a small sound of frustration as her cell phone went off. She spared a glance at the caller ID to determine whether or not it was worth it, answering in a huff a second later. "Rod, what is it?"

" _Eva, hey. Some guy is here asking for you by name, says he's here on recommendation. Some Dutch guy. Apparently, he just flew in."_

"What?" She made brief eye contact with Tavia, who gave her a curious look. "Flew in from where? Who gave him the recommendation?" She heard talking on the other end, and a voice she had never heard before.

" _He says they're in from Africa, somewhere on the coast."_ There was a quick flicker of connection in her mind, as she remembered the news report from the night before that had caught her attention. " _He wants to meet with you in person."_

"Okay." Eva rubbed her forehead. "Uh, can you send him down here? I think I'd like a home-field advantage."

" _Sure thing. Good luck, E."_

"Thanks, hon." She had barely hung up when Tavia started asking questions.

"That was Rod?"

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"Some guy flew in from Africa and is asking for me by name. Apparently we have friends outside of New York. I asked Rod to send him down here so we can talk."

"Africa?" Tavia wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Who do we know in Africa?" Eva shrugged and dragged her hands down her face.

"No idea."

Roughly 15 minutes later, a group of men approached the garage. Judging by his gait and attitude, the one in charge was the one with the tattoos coming up the sides of his head, alongside a strange-looking brand that she didn't bother to try an recognize. More prominent than the tattoos, or even the brand, was his missing arm. It had been chopped off just above the left elbow. The skin around the wound was red and raw-looking. The whole entourage seemed exhausted and jet-lagged.

"Are you the buyer from Africa?" Eva asked, setting down what she was working on and getting to her feet, meeting him closer to the center of the garage.

"I am, I take it you're Evangeline." The accent caught her attention. Rod had said he was Dutch**, but something about the timbre of his voice was different. She had the feeling that she would have to be careful around this man.

"Yes, but just Eva please." She stood from her stool to greet them properly. "This is Matt and Tavia. They work with me most days."

"How sweet." He responded positively but seemed impatient. There was no telling whether that was just the way he was or if it was because of his traveling situation.

"I take it you need an arm." She gestured to the angry looking stump of his left arm. "It's easy enough and very common. I could probably have it done in a couple weeks, assuming I don't work on anything else."

"Very reassuring, wonderful. But-eh, I don't want just an arm." Upon mentioning this, the man's face broke into an almost insane looking grin.

"Oh?" Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw Tavia shift interestedly in her seat and lean forward on her desk. "Then I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I'll have to charge extra."

"Yes, yes, of course." He waved his hand dismissively. "Not a problem. Before you name your price, however, I have a few requests."

Matt, Tavia, and Eva all exchanged glances confusedly. "Requests?"

"Yeah, listen, I'm going to provide you with all the materials you need, but I can't have them flown here so you'll have to come with me." Eva blinked in surprise and immediately dug deeper, needing to clarify what he was asking.

"Wh-all three of us? Where?"

"I can't tell you, for security reasons. And no." He gestured at her. "Just you." Eva's stomach was in her toes.

"Hold on a second, if they don't come with me then your order will take twice as long as it normally would-"

"No, I know, that's not an issue." The man said quickly. She couldn't quite place it, but something in his response made him seem almost unstable. Naturally, in her line of work, it wasn't a new experience. What grabbed her attention was that the almost...playful way in which he dismissed her concerns made it abundantly clear that not only was he smart, but that he had something up his sleeve.

She looked to Tavia and Matt as she contemplated the matter. They both looked at her wide-eyed, shocked that she would even consider the offer.

Covering her mouth with her hand absentmindedly, Eva began to think through both sides. Her rational side insisted that as a rule, when an obviously dangerous individual requests to take you to an undisclosed location and won't allow you to bring associates, one should not accept the offer. And yet, her ambitious side argued that when a customer shows with greater wealth than your regulars requests a special piece the answer should always be 'yes', and that his wide influence was only a bonus.

Ultimately, her ambition won out, as it usually did. She came back to the present moment in time to cut off Tavia, who clearly was about to tell the man what he could do with his special project.

"I'll do it." She straightened up and saw Matt's jaw drop out of the corner of her eye. "I can do it on my own, I'm sure. In the meantime, you two," she addressed her proteges, "will run the business. No, hush, I don't want to hear it!" She added quickly as they began to protest. "I expect us to have kept all of our customers, which means play nice." She pointed at Tavia. "And you, Matt, I want you to keep her in check, make sure she doesn't go off the rails." She turned back to the man. "You told me to name my price?"

"Yes, I understand this is a - ah - _unique_ commission." Chewing her lip absently, Eva calculated her usual wage, plus the weaponizing aspect, as well as the increased labor hours as she would be working alone. After a moment's deliberation, she decided that he could afford it and tacked on another couple thousand.

"I want $25,000."* She stated firmly, trying to make it clear that she wouldn't negotiate.

"Done!" He said without hesitation.

"Good."

"Excellent! We'll be back tomorrow, say noon." It wasn't a request, although his voice remained friendly. "I expect you'll be ready by then."

"Yes, I will be, mister…?" The question was implied as she reached her arm out for him to shake with his remaining hand.

"Klaue. Ulysses Klaue, _schat._ "** Eva didn't pretend to know what he said and decided ultimately ignore it. He shook her hand with a wide grin on his face, never breaking his intense eye contact.

"I guess I'll need to get everything in order." She said to fill the silence as her hand fell back to her side. "Thank you for your patronage, Mister Klaue."

"Don't thank me yet, Miss Kinsey." He replied, almost mockingly. He left her with a wink and two very upset apprentices.

"This isn't a discussion." She said quickly and went back to her workbench without making eye contact.

"No, but I think it should be."

"I know. You can yell at me all you like, but the decision has been made and there's no changing it now." Eva snapped suddenly and left the twins in yet another stunned silence. "I have to go and make sure I have everything I need. One of you, or both, I don't care, make sure to finish the design for Knuckles." She left her the garage without another word.

 ***I ACTUALLY DID THE MATH. Well, I say math, I really just mean looking up one thing and then logic-ing to the best of my ability. For our purposes, the lowest estimated price for a sophisticated arm prosthetic is roughly $20,000. We'll say that her usual price is a bit lower than that given the low-level criminals she provides for, so our actual starting point will be $10,000. BUT, with all of my man's requests, plus the fact that she's smart enough to ask for some extra just because, brings us all the way back up to $25,000 for a nice round number.**

 ****As for this, based on what I could find, Ulysses is originally from Belgium. They speak mostly French and German, according to Google. You can look up what this means, or you can wait patiently and find out in later chapters ;)**


End file.
